


one look, all is said

by crankyjones



Category: SKAM (France), SKAM (TV) RPF
Genre: Eye Contact, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 23:49:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17538674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyjones/pseuds/crankyjones
Summary: Or the first time Lucas met Eliott's gaze.





	one look, all is said

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [un regard, tout est dit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533652) by [crankyjones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyjones/pseuds/crankyjones). 



> i've been thinking about their meeting for days,  
> so i wrote this.  
> (the clip is released today, come on, we can do this)
> 
> (version française disponible sur mon profil)

The look Imane threw at Lucas when he finally entered the school ‘foyer’ reminded him that, if he was stuck in such a situation, he was the only one to blame. He sighed and eventually crossed the door frame. The room was pretty spacious, but that was likely because there wasn’t anybody. There was Daphné, of course (whom Lucas could even count for three people considering how much she was wriggling), and the rest of her friend group—her ‘crew’, as they called themselves—as well as another boy he never saw before, glued to Alexia’s arm. But, apart from them, there wasn’t anybody.

“You’re late,” Imane told him once he was standing next to her.  
“I couldn’t find the room,” Lucas mumbled, resting against a table where were spread piles of different sheets of paper and posters.  
“Yeah. Don’t forget I have something that’s yours, so you better put all your heart into it.”  
“Do I really look like…”  
“Eliott!”

Daphné’s ear-splitting voice covered Lucas’ and Imane’s attention turned away from him. Intrigued, he turned his head and saw a silhouette hidden by the girl who jumped into his arms. A low laugh reached his ears and, eventually, he was able to see the new arrival. He turned out to be a boy who looked at least a head and a half taller than Daphné and whose smile seemed to bring even more light than the sun itself. His brown hair were tousled on the top of his head and a few strands were falling graciously on his forehead. His lips were opening and closing, yet Lucas couldn’t hear a single word he was saying.  
Suddenly, the boy raised his eyes and met his gaze. The air felt trapped in his lungs and his cheeks heated up; he looked down, faking to be deep into the reading of a tract. His chest was inflating and deflating quickly, at his breathing’s rate. He felt like he had run a marathon. _What just happened, exactly?_

“OK, Lucas, you didn’t come for nothing, right?” Imane’s voice called to order.  
Lucas sat up straight and shook his head, as if he was trying to forget the last minute of his existence. “Um, right,” he stuttered.  
“That’s what I thought too. Don’t move.”  
“No chance…”

Lucas’ eyes thumbed through the paper he held between his hands, but he couldn’t manage to comprehend a single sentence. Around him, he was hearing the few people talking more or less enthusiastically, but he couldn’t manage to focus on what was being said. His body was there, half-sat on that table, but his mind was stuck underneath a heavy void.  
And he honestly felt like he would never be able to get it out of here.

“Lucas, right?”  
Lucas looked up, slowly. _He_ was there. Seeing him up close made him feel things he couldn’t quite understand, and he didn’t know how he was supposed to react nor what he was supposed to answer. It should’ve had been easy, though; it was just a boy, a high-school boy, not the Queen of England. His mouth opened and closed several times without any sound coming out, and he got the urge to slap himself for looking so stupid. “Yeah,” he ended up saying.  
“Well, hi, Lucas.”  
“Hi…” He started.  
“Eliott,” the boy finished, holding out his hand.  
“Eliott,” Lucas repeated before wrinkling his lips nervously. _Eliott…_  
He took his hand and shook it softly. His heart was beating so fast, he would’ve had thought he was panicking if there was no reason for him to react that way. But then, why was his body on the verge of swooning? Lucas was looking at the boy in front of him, yet nothing came to his mind. All he did was… feeling. Feeling his heart beat against his chest. Feeling his stomach tense. Feeling his brain fill up. Feeling his hair straighten up. Feeling his cheeks blush.  
He let go of Eliott’s hand and looked away, then all feeling vanished.

“Daphné wants us to…” The brunet cleared his throat. “She wants us to set the chairs up and to put a questionnaire on each.”  
“Yeah, okay.”

Lucas got up and walked past Eliott, brushing against him on the way. A chill went through his body before he could prevent it, and he stopped dead. He didn’t know what kind of magic spell that guy had cast on him but if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he didn’t like it at all. It was as if, when he saw him, he had lost all control over his own body. As if, when their eyes met, when their hands touched, _he_ was the one who had become its master.

“ _When the loved one is elsewhere, Our thoughts are elsewhere_.” Eliott’s low voice seemed to go through his whole body, like the vibrations given off by the rumble of thunder, and Lucas turned over to face the boy.  
“Wh… What?” His voice stammered in spite of himself.  
“Oh, nothing, I… you looked lost in thoughts, it made me think of that quote,” he explained, scratching his neck nervously. “It’s by Charles de Leusse.”  
“Year twelve, literary course?”  
“Year thirteen.”  
He nodded and looked down at his shoes which were hitting the floor in rhythm. It was impossible for him to relax, no matter what he was trying to do or to tell himself. Never had it happened to him to lose his composure like that… so why now? And why when he could possibly make a new friend?

“I… I don’t love anyone,” he said eventually, raising his head.  
“Okay?” Eliott started laughing and Lucas could feel himself melting on the spot—although it was almost freezing outside.  
“No! Well, yes, I do not love anyone; but I’m saying this because you talked about some loved one and I…”  
“Hey, Lucas,” Eliott cut him off. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, I thought you were dating Chloé.”  
“Chloé?”  
“Er… yeah? Chloé Jeanson, from Year eleven?” Lucas’ eyes fluttered before eventually staying opened. _Oh. Chloé._ “Anyway, sorry.”  
“No, uh, it’s okay.”

He finally turned around to take a few chairs that were piled up on top of one another, soon followed by Eliott whom he eluded his best. They only brushed a couple times, but Lucas was far from wanting to again. It only caused weird reactions to his whole being; it was putting itself on alert, as if the mere fact of touching that boy could damage his health. Just looking at him… Just _thinking_ about looking at him…  
Lucas put the chairs down and closed his eyes for a second. _It’s okay, Lucas, everything’s alright_ , he encouraged himself. He was reacting really oddly today. The lack of sleep was surely starting to make itself felt…

“ _The inner fight Never does any dead_ ,” Eliott recited.  
He opened his eyes and nonchalantly began to set the chairs he took in tight rows. His saliva was struggling to go down his throat as Eliott’s words were echoing through his mind. _The inner fight…_ Why did he seem to read him like an open book? They didn’t even know each other before today. Why was he acting like he knew what was going on in his head? He didn’t even understand a scrap of it himself—and it was his own brain.

“Do you always quote authors when you talk?” Lucas asked while keeping on setting the chairs in lines, ignoring the feeling of heat on his face.  
“Perhaps I do.”

The blond looked up and saw Eliott on the other side of the room. The mere sight of the smile on his lips brought a little one on his own, and he had a hunch that the other boy’s only grew more. He was mocking him, teasing him; Lucas was aware of it. He usually hated that but, oddly, it didn’t matter to him this time. Instead, there was once again that little ball in the pit of his stomach, like a small sun that was spreading a gentle warmth all over his body. Eliott managed to catch his gaze and, although he wished he could divert it, he was like his prisoner. The surrounding sounds melted away to only become inaudible murmurs; only the beating of his heart, loud and fast against his rib cage, was reaching his ears. His mind created a halo around the boy whose eyes were watching his with so much persistence they seemed to decipher him. Thousands of chills were running through his spine, his arm hair felt ready to uproot. And always that same heat… It could’ve had lasted hours, Lucas wouldn’t even have had been aware of it. The truth was, he wasn’t aware of anything at all. His body was there, but his mind was stuck with Eliott. His mind was _safe_ with Eliott.  
For once, Lucas felt himself feeling.  
And, in the end, he liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> title: "septième livre", charles de leusse  
> 1st quote: "le livre", charles de leusse  
> 2nd quote: "comme un grain", charles de leusse


End file.
